


A Night at Fell's Kitchen

by RedOrchid



Series: Flash Bang #1 (Indigo Team) [19]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Pining, fake date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 08:52:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14445741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedOrchid/pseuds/RedOrchid
Summary: Alec agrees to a fake date at the restaurant where Jace works to help with publicity.Square #9 - Fake Dating





	A Night at Fell's Kitchen

**Author's Note:**

> Someone please tell me that there's a Hell's Kitchen/Shadowhunters crossover out there already called _Fell's Kitchen_? And if not, can someone please, please, be a total MVP and write it. I want Ragnor as Gordon Ramsey, and the rest of the characters battling it out. :)))))))!

“No way,” Alec says, the first time Jace asks. And the second. And the fifteenth.

***

“Would  _ you _ do it?” he asks, when Jace ropes in Izzy to help with convincing him, realising a moment too late who he’s talking to. Because yes, Izzy definitely would. And if she weren’t interning at a law firm, working late almost every night of the week, Jace would probably just have asked her to begin with.

***

“I don’t see what the big deal is. I mean, it’s not like he’s trying to pimp you out,” is Simon’s take. To which Alec rolls his eyes—mostly at himself, really; he should have known better than to go to his sister’s boyfriend for backup against her.

***

“Well, will you get to eat there for free?” is Lydia’s question. When Alec nods, she shrugs, and says, “Then I don’t see a problem?”

***

“The problem,” Alec painstakingly explains to each of them, “is that I’ve never even been on the kind of over-the-top, romantic date Jace wants me to pretend to go on. I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to act. If he wants to ‘strategically place’”—the air quotes might be a bit much, but by now, Alec feels entitled to them—“a couple at one of the best tables in his restaurant so that they may ‘encourage’ other guests to spread the word that  _ Fell’s Kitchen _ is the best place to share a romantic dessert in New York, he should get a couple of professional actors, not me and whoever this random friend of Ragnor’s is.”

“Come on, you know how important this is to him,” Izzy cajoles. “He finally has a chance to make a name for himself as a pastry chef—at  _ Fell’s Kitchen _ , no less—and you can’t put on a suit and go share some  _ petit fours _ with a cute guy?”

“How do you even know the guy is cute?” Alec counters. “I’ve no time to go on dates for  _ myself _ , why would you think I’d have time to go on fake ones for Jace?”

“Because he’s our brother, and we love him?” Izzy replies. “Come on, Alec, it’s  _ one night _ , when the reporter from  _ Top Tables _ is rumoured to be visiting. Please?”

“Izzy—”

“You know, if you do this for him, he might bite the bullet and take your place accompanying mom to the Idris Charity Auction,” she says, and Alec thinks,  _ Damn it _ .

Guess he’s going on a fake date.

***

“All right, so remember,” Jace says over the phone, “we’re doing two dessert specials tonight. One is a pear tartlet with fresh mint, and the other is a raspberry soufflé with black liquorice. Make sure you mention the honeycomb crisp in the first and the blood orange  _ coulis _ in the other whenever another guest looks your way, okay? Especially if they look like an undercover food critic.”

Alec cradles his phone between his shoulder and his ear, deliberating on what tie to wear. “Jace, relax. I know your desserts—you’ve used me and Izzy as guinea pigs for most of them.”

“I know, but you need to make sure you  _ sell _ it.”

“You’re the one who asked me to do this,” Alec reminds him. “I told you it was a stupid idea.”

“It’s still a great idea,” Jace insists. “Now, Ragnor’s friend is going to meet you at the restaurant. His name is Magnus. Apparently, you will like him, because—and I quote—he’s the human embodiment of a bottle of Armand de Brignac.”

“Gaudy and pretentious?”

“Elegant, refined and  _ very _ stylish,” Jace corrects him, and Alec is relieved to hear laughter in his voice. “Also, your reservation is in an hour. Don’t be late.”

***

Alec arrives at the restaurant with three minutes to spare. It’s only the second time he’s been at Jace’s new place of work, but everything he’s seen of  _ Fell’s Kitchen _ so far, he really likes. The space itself is comfortable and intimate, designed to feel like someone’s home (albeit a very rich, and quite Victorian someone) rather than going for a modern, or minimalist feel. It’s a Saturday night, so the place is very busy, and there’s a line of people waiting to be shown to their table. Alec strains his neck, looking past the Maître d’s station and into the dining room itself, wondering who among the guests is the dreaded food critic Jace is so worried about.

“Welcome to Fell’s Kitchen. In what name is your reservation, please?” the Maître d’ asks someone at the front of the line.

“Alexander Lightwood,” a man answers, leading to Alec nearly tripping over another couple in his haste to exit the line and make his way over.

“Same reservation,” he explains to the people almost at the front of the line, who give him dirty looks. He places a light hand on the other man’s elbow, prompting him to turn around. “Hi, I’m—”

The man turns around, and Alec promptly loses track of the rest of his sentence. Because Ragnor’s friend is not just cute—he’s downright  _ gorgeous _ . 

“You must be Alec,” the man says. Then he smiles, causing Alec’s brain to short-circuit a second time. “I’m Magnus. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He holds out his hand. Somehow—for reasons beyond what Alec’s able to explain, even later on—Alec ends up reaching for it with his left hand, instead of his right, taking Magnus’ hand in his instead of shaking it.

He realises his mistake a split second later, heat surging up his neck as he quickly pulls away. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I—”

Magnus lets out a laugh, and when Alec looks back at him, something mischievous is glittering in Magnus’ eyes. He takes a step closer to Alec, and then leans in so that his mouth is right next to Alec’s ear.

“I don’t mind at all.” 

Alec feels a shiver travel down the full length of his spine. Magnus’ breath is hot against his ear, and Alec’s mind is already spinning. It’s been months since he last met someone he was this instantly attracted to, and for a couple of glorious seconds, the night feels like it’s filled to the brim with possibilities.

“Gentlemen? If you’d follow me, please?” the Maître d’ cuts in, interrupting the moment.

Magnus is first to recover. “Of course, sorry to keep you waiting. You know, I’ve been wanting to come here for a long time—my friends keep telling me that this is where you get the  _ best _ chocolate fondant in the city, and, well, I have a bit of a sweet tooth”, he says, just loudly enough that his words are sure to carry to the people behind them in line.

“Wait until you try their raspberry soufflé,” Alec replies, remembering the purpose of their visit just in time, before Magnus casually slides his free hand beneath the hem of his jacket, hooking a thumb into Alec’s belt loop as though it belongs there.

“We actually have the raspberry soufflé as one of our dessert specials tonight,” the Maître d’ says, to which Alec makes what he hopes is an appropriate sound of surprise and delight. They’re shown through the restaurant, to a table that’s strategically central, and handed their menus.

“So what’s our game plan?” Magnus asks quietly, leaning across the table towards Alec, pretending like he’s showing him something on the menu. “Are we on a blind date? Did our friends set us up? Did we both swipe right on Tinder?”

Alec bites back a laugh. “Would you be disappointed if I told you that I hate Tinder with the force of a thousand suns?” he whispers back.

“Not at all. Now, if you hate  _ Grindr _ with equal fervour, on the other hand, we have some potentially uncomfortable conversations ahead of us.”

Magnus adds a wink to his implied question, and Alec feels himself flush with heat. Truth be told, he never started using the Grindr account Izzy set up for him on his phone, but the way Magnus is looking at him makes him think he might have been missing out.

Their server arrives to take their drink order, and Alec is grateful to have something else to focus on for a minute. He looks around the room surreptitiously, checking to see if anyone has a notepad with them, or looks like they’re taking notes on their phone.

“Our friends set us up,” he decides, sidestepping Magnus’ second question. “My siblings like to meddle, and they think my social life isn’t exciting enough.”

“Interesting,” Magnus replies. “Mine think my social life is a bit  _ too _ exciting; they figure I should meet someone nice who wants to stick around for longer than a weekend.”

“Well, is that what  _ you’d _ want?” Alec asks, and then thanks the waiter, who chooses that moment to put their drinks down in front of them. “Or are your friends just sticking their noses where they don’t belong?”

Magnus takes a moment to answer. Alec watches the tip of his finger as he traces the edge of his Martini glass.

“Can I get back to you on that?” he says, finally, and Alec thinks he sees a flash of pain cross his face, before Magnus’ beautiful smile is back in full force.

“Yeah. I mean—sure,” Alec replies. The giddy excitement that’s been running through him since they met fades a little, something calmer and more involved taking its place. He watches Magnus bring his cocktail to his lips and close his eyes in pleasure as he takes a drink. They’ve spent less than fifteen minutes in each other’s company, and already, Alec wants to get to know more about him.

Magnus looks up over the rim of his glass, his eyebrows rising teasingly as he catches Alec looking at him. Alec quickly covers by taking a sip from his own drink, attempting to let the cool liquid calm him down a little.

***

“I don’t consider myself to be against entering into a new relationship, really,” Magnus tells him later, as they’re working on their entrees. “It’s just—after my last one ended—I’ve been reluctant to put myself out there again, I guess.”

Alec nods, considering how to answer while popping a perfect, grilled mushroom into his mouth. “I get that. After my last boyfriend and I broke up, Izzy—my sister—kept nagging me to go out and find someone new. She’s a firm believer in the ‘to get over someone, get under someone else’-approach, but I just—I don’t know. I went on a few dates, but it just didn’t feel right.”

“I’m more like your sister, I think,” Magnus replies. “I like to drown my heartaches in booze and endorphins.” There’s a bitterness to his voice as he says it, as though he’s quoting someone. Alec impulsively reaches for him, taking Magnus’ hand across the table and squeezing it. 

Magnus meets his eyes, something naked and vulnerable crossing his face as he looks back at Alec. He squeezes Alec’s hand back, and Alec feels and overwhelming wave of  _ want _ wash over him. He wants to make Magnus smile again, wants to make him forget whatever heartbreak is lurking in his past, still casting a long shadow.

“Well, there’s no pressure tonight,” he says, bringing a smile to his face, even though it stings a little bit. “We’re here to help the people we love. So let’s have a great fake first date. It could—I don’t know—be a practice run, or something? For when the time is right?”

The look in Magnus eyes changes; Alec can’t decipher it, but it looks softer, less pained, somehow. He squeezes Magnus’ hand again and then turns back to his meal.

***

“ _ Oh. My. God! _ ” Magnus moans, loud enough that they’re definitely drawing looks from people at the nearby tables. “Alexander, you  _ have _ to try this!”

He holds out his spoon, inviting Alec to lean across the table to catch the piece of dessert on it with his mouth. He does, making matching sounds of appreciation as he chews.

(It’s not all fake; the pear tartlet Jace has created really is amazing.)

“Oh,  _ wow _ ,” he exclaims, closing his eyes and tilting his head back a little as he savours the bite. “That’s amazing.”

“I’ll have what they’re having,” he hears a woman tell her server at a nearby table, and does a mental fistbump.

“I can’t believe how crunchy this honeycomb is,” Magnus continues. “And the mint! Such a creative and fresh combination.”

“Here, taste this,” Alec replies, not intending to be outdone. “The raspberries hit just the perfect balance between sweet and tart. And this sauce! What do you think it is? Orange?”

“Blood orange,” Magnus replies. “It must be. And with liquorice! That’s really innovative!”

“All right, so I’d say we’ve paid our dues,” he adds, lowering his voice and leaning closer to Alec. “And, to be honest, I hate liquorice, so what do you say we finish up here and head down the block to a nice little bar I know?”

Alec grins, and gestures for the check.

***

“Oooh! Someone’s dressed all fancy!” a girl behind the bar calls out as they enter. “Dinner at Ragnor’s?”

“Evening, Maia,” Magnus replies, smiling at her as he leads Alec over to the bar. “My usual, please.”

“And what can I get you, Mr wearing-an-equally-nice-suit?” Maia asks, turing to Alec and giving him a very appreciative once-over. “Are you a cocktail fan, like Magnus, or would you prefer something simpler?”

“I’ll have a scotch, please. And I’m Alec.”

“Nice to meet you, Alec,” Maia replies. “Magnus buying your drink? Because if so, you should really try this great bottle I have hidden away on the top shelf.”

She gives him a wide, innocent smile. From the way Magnus turns his face away to hide a laugh, Alec suspects that the two of them have been friends for quite some time.

“Regular brand’s fine.”

“You’re no fun. All right, give me a second. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

“She seems nice,” Alec comments, as Maia moves away along the bar. “Is she one of the friends who are nagging you to go one nicer dates?”

“Not a driving force in that group, but yes, most certainly a member,” Magnus replies. “Next round of drinks says she’ll ask how our date is going when she comes back.”

“You’re on,” Alec says, and then… an idea hits him.

It’s possibly a bad one. Probably a bad one, even, considering their earlier conversation. Then again, Alec’s never been good at keeping his head from running away with him. And his heart’s even worse.

“So, what should we tell her?” he asks, shifting closer to Magnus. “If this—if our friends had actually set us up, and we’d met at the restaurant for dinner, and then came back here, how would you say the date was going?”

Magnus stiffens at his side, and Alec watches his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. He waits, pulls back a little, wondering if he just pushed too hard, if this is where tonight ends.

“I—” Magnus starts, then hesitates. The moment stretches out between them, the tension growing.

“That bad?” Alec tries to joke, once he can’t take it anymore. He looks up, trying to see where Maia went—that drink she promised him would be really good right about now.

Magnus moves towards him, leaning into Alec’s space, startling him. He reaches out and covers Alec’s hand with his own, lets his thumb stroke the back of it. Alec draws a shaky breath, immediately hyper-aware of every point of their bodies that’s not currently touching. He turns his hand, bringing it palm to palm with Magnus’. It’s such a simple touch, but it feels monumental.

He takes another shaky breath, trying to will his suddenly racing heart to calm down a little.

“If this had been a regular date, I probably would have flirted shamelessly with you all through dinner, and then suggested we sneak off for a quickie in the men’s room before going our separate ways,” Magnus confesses. He swallows again, and then looks up, meeting Alec’s eyes. “I’m glad tonight happened instead.”

Alec nods, clears his throat. “Me too.”

“Do you like to play?” Magnus asks, tilting his head toward the back of the room, where a pool table is set up.

It sounds like a hundred questions rolled up in one. Alec subconsciously tightens his grip on Magnus’ hand, pulls him in a bit, until they’re standing close enough that he imagines he can feel the heat of Magnus’ body brush lightly against his own.

“Yes,” he replies, feeling a smile spread on his face. “Yeah, come on, let’s play.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!


End file.
